The Conflicting Sciences in the FBI
by BlueVanillaDetective
Summary: A body made to look like a famous historical figure has been dragged out of a lake in Washington D.C. But that's not the only interesting feature of the body. Can Hotch and the BAU help Booth, Brennan, and the others at the Jeffersonian solve this mystery?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS).

* * *

In Washington D.C.

"_Up_, Daddy, _Up_!" Christine Booth bounced excitedly, naming her choice for movie night at the Booth/Brennan residence.

"Okay! Bones, you want to come join us?" asked her father, Special Agent Seeley Booth, as he rifled through the collection of movies.

"Sure," Dr. Temperance Brennan smiled. A quiet evening sounding nice, with all of the cases they had gone through the last few weeks.

As Booth put the movie into the DVD player, two different ringtones filled the air. As if they had synchronized it, both parents simultaneously picked up their phones, answering "Booth." and "Brennan" respectively.

Christine didn't notice the disturbance, her eyes glued to the TV as the movie began. Brennan finished her phone call first, and dialed another number for Christine's babysitter, hoping that she would be able to come at night.

Luckily, Christine's babysitter, Ellie, lived in the neighborhood and was free to come over. As Booth hung up on his phone call, he let the 16-year-old girl in.

"Hey, Christine," he said. "Will you be fine with Ellie watching movies with you?"

Christine nodded hesitantly. Ellie smiled and said, "Guess what? I have the same name as that girl right there!" She emphasized the fact by pointing at the character in the movie.

That caught Christine's attention. "Really?" she cried excitedly.

"Uh huh," Ellie smiled, nodding to the parents who were sneaking out to their cars.

Brennan mouthed her thanks as they headed out the door to the Jeffersonian.

"What couldn't wait until tomorrow?" said Dr. Jack Hodgins as he walked in with Angela Montenegro, who was holding Michael Vincent.

Dr. Camille Saroyan raised an eyebrow at the young boy's presence in the lab.

"We couldn't find a babysitter at this time of night and all of the day cares are closed," Angela explained.

"You can drop him off at ours," said Booth as he and Brennan came in. "He and Christine will have fun watching movies."

"But first," interrupted Cam, "we have something more pressing to attend to."

As Brennan and Hodgins followed Cam up to the platform, Cam turned to the body on the table. "This body was found when the lake was dragged. The police need an ID, cause of death, and time of death."

The body was burned, with patches of skin covering the bones, yet clearly damp. The strange contradiction caught Brennan's attention. There was also a gunshot wound to the chest. Analysis would prove if it was fatal.

Hodgins spotted some algae on the victim's burned remains of clothing. "Come to Papa," he crowed as he retrieved a sample and went off to analyze it.

Angela, still on the ground floor with Booth, turned to Cam. "I'm just going to drop off Michael Vincent at Brennan's."

Cam nodded. The body's head was too burned to be used for a facial reconstruction, and the bones wouldn't be cleaned until tomorrow, when Dr. Brennan's assistant, Dr. Zack Addy, arrived. She took a sample of the hair and skin. She doubted that DNA would be present, but there wasn't any harm in trying.

Angela left, thanking Booth for holding the door open for her.

"So, Bones," said Booth, joining the others on the platform. "What have we got?"

"Pelvic bone suggests a male, bone remodeling says between the ages of 30 and 40. Projecting nasal spine, angular oval orbits, and hair tell me the victim was a blond Caucasian. The skin has to be cleaned off for me to determine anything else. I _can _tell you one more thing, though…" said Brennan as she looked at the skull more closely.

"What?" wondered Booth, now curious.

"He's missing an ear."

The next morning in Quantico, Virginia

"Good morning, Baby Girl," said Derek Morgan, as the blond technical analyst passed by him.

Penelope Garcia did not respond as usual; instead, she brushed past him and strode into the conference room, her heels clicking against the floor excitedly.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, curious as to what distracted her so much she didn't return the usual greeting. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Emily Prentiss shared a look, and all three followed Garcia into the room, where the other two members of the team, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi, were already seated.

"Last night, a body was dragged out of the lake, and taken to the Jeffersonian Institute. It's still being processed, so details are few and far between, but they should be on the file. What we do know is that there was a bullet in the body. Anyway, I know what you're thinking. Some guy decides to go skinny-dipping in a lake at night, and someone else thinks that he's a lake monster, and shoots him. Well, that's not exactly right," briefed Garcia.

"The body was burned in addition to the gunshot?" asked Prentiss, looking up from what she was reading.

"Right. But here's the real oddball," paused Garcia as she fiddled with the remote. The next picture came up, giving the team a closer look at the guy's head.

"His left ear was missing?" Rossi wondered. "Like Vincent van Gogh?"

"No," said Reid distractedly. "Vincent van Gogh, undergoing a period of depression, only cut off the lower part of his left ear." He sat up, realizing exactly what Garcia had just said. "Wait a minute. Did you just say the Jeffersonian?"

"Yeah," Penelope nodded excitedly. "Apparently the scientists who work there help the FBI in D.C. with cases involving bones of unidentifiable victims. Guess who's in charge?"

Reid opened his mouth to answer, but Rossi beat him to it. "Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Everyone else looked at him curiously. "What? I've seen her at some writers' conventions."

Reid added, "And her detail in her work in forensic anthropology is intriguing."

Penelope smirked. "Yeah…that's not why I like her books."

Hotch cleared his throat. "So based on what we do know about the case, what are everyone's thoughts?"

"The body was male, between the ages of 30 and 40, and Caucasian," said Prentiss. "Are there any other victims? Do we know if this is the work of a serial killer? We need more victims to figure out this unsub's victimology."

Garcia shrugged. "I've got the computer searching now."

"Since the victim was killed in Washington D.C., the capital and symbol of the nation, I had her search for similar homicides in the nation going back 10 years," Hotch explained.

"The burning suggests overkill−the victim was shot and burned, so we might be looking at a very angry sadist," offered J.J.

"What's with the ear, though?" asked Morgan.

"If the murderer wants to think of the victim as a famous person in history that he for some reason hates, then maybe he's picking people most closely related in race and age, despite the inaccuracy with the ear. This victim appears to be Dutch or of Dutch descent, and around 35-40 years old. That's roughly the age when van Gogh died from a gunshot wound to the chest. We'll have to find out if the shot was fatal," explained Reid.

"We'll find out more when get to Washington D.C. Garcia, you're coming with us, so you can get more details to specify your search. Wheels up in 30," said Hotch as everyone began to pick up the files and leave.

* * *

This is my first TV show/crossover fanfic! Hopefully I didn't mess this up too badly…

Read and review! I will update sporadically, but tell me if this story is going well. Otherwise I might delete it and try my hand at writing a different type of fanfic.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your reviews, 1Sherlockian, Decembra1998! Please read and review. No flames, though.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox), _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS), Reid's existentialist joke, or Brennan's Schrodinger's cat joke.

* * *

The Hoover Building in Washington D.C.

"Sweets, come on!" Booth pestered the psychologist/profiler to hurry up. "The BAU's going to arrive at the Jeffersonian, and we can't be late. Or else Cullen will come after me for making them wait!"

Dr. Lance Sweets rushed out of his office, pulling on his jacket over his dress shirt on the way. "Did you just say the BAU? They are, like, the elite profilers of the FBI! Why didn't you warn me earlier about the meeting?"

Booth rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm warning you now." Sweets sighed in exasperation. "Now, if you are done acting like an obsessed fangirl, let's get going!"

* * *

The Jeffersonian Institute

After sprinting from the parking lot to the lab, Booth and Sweets arrived, panting and out of breath, earning curious looks from lab technicians. Booth looked around, thanking God that they had arrived before the BAU.

Angela had been walking by at the moment, and did a double-take at the sight of two FBI agents looking somewhat disheveled. "What happened to you two?" she asked.

"We didn't want to be late for the meeting," Sweets explained, his erratic breathing slowing down before Booth's.

Just then, the doors to the lab slid open. Brennan, Hodgins, Zack, and Cam stopped examining the body on the platform table and joined the trio.

In walked seven of the FBI's top profilers. The tall, dark-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, and these agents are SSAs Prentiss, Morgan, and Rossi; Dr. Reid; our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

"Wait…you're a doctor?" Booth asked Reid. "You look even younger than Sweets and Jack here," he continued, gesturing to them respectively. He ignored the "Zack" muttered by the young doctor.

Tactfully ignoring the comment, Cam introduced the Jeffersonian team. "I am the head of the forensics division, Dr. Saroyan, and these are Dr. Addy, our assistant forensic anthropologist; Dr. Lance Sweets, our psychologist/profiler; Ms. Montenegro, our residential artist and technological expert; Dr. Hodgins, our forensic entomologist and expert trace evidence; Dr. Brennan, our head forensic anthropologist; and of course, Special Agent Booth."

Handshakes and nods were exchanged, but now was not the time to socialize. A burnt body missing an ear lay on the platform table (for some reason in a glass box), and a killer was still out there.

Cam told Hotch that the BAU team could use her office to set up, and led him, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and J.J. there. Reid stayed behind, curious about Zack, who looked about the same age as he was, and hoping to watch Brennan in action. He was fascinated by the science of forensic anthropology. Booth and Sweets went along with Cam and the others to observe the BAU in action.

Angela turned to Garcia. "So you're the technical analyst? I have something that I think you'd like to see." Garcia decided to follow the kind woman to her office, curiosity flooding through her.

Hodgins retreated to his office to work on his analyses of the fibers and algae found on the victim, leaving Brennan, Zack, and Reid still on the platform with the body.

Brennan asked, "And why are you still here, Dr. Reid?"

Reid looked nervous. "I was hoping to observe you doing your job. If you don't mind me being here, I mean," he stammered.

Brennan thought it over, and shrugged. "Even if I don't believe in psychology, you are here to help us catch a killer, so logic would dictate that you should learn as much about the body as you can from an expert such as myself. So yes, you may stay."

"Um, thanks?" Reid said it more like a question, a little intimidated by her demanding persona. Zack caught his eye, smiling. He understood feeling inferior to Dr. Brennan, even when she wasn't try to make him feel that way.

"So what doctorates have you earned, Dr. Reid?" asked Brennan as Zack placed the flesh-eating insects into the glass box surrounding the body.

Fascinated by the insects doing their work, Reid distractedly replied, "Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. I also have a BAS in psychology and a BAS in sociology."

"Really?" Brennan murmured as she examined the body as well. "Dr. Addy has doctorates in forensic anthropology and engineering. Despite those differences, you have similar IQs."

_Despite the fact that I don't believe in quantifying intelligence, this Dr. Addy may be a genius too!_ Reid was excited by the prospect of making a new friend, one who would actually understand him intellectually. He tried a joke on him.

"Hey, Dr. Addy? How many existentialists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

Zack's lips twitched as he looked up, fighting back a smile, yet failing. He responded with humor. "Two. One to change the lightbulb, and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness."

Despite trying to concentrate on her work, Brennan found herself smiling as the two geniuses laughed.

Brennan shared a joke she had read. "So Erwin Schrodinger gets pulled over for speeding. The police officer says, 'What's in the trunk?' Schrodinger says, 'A cat.' The police officer says, 'Let me see,' and he opens the trunk and says, 'The cat is dead.' And Schrodinger says, 'Well, it is now.' "

One of the lab technicians passed by the platform, wondering why three respectable adults with doctorates were laughing next to a dead body.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the teams regrouped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the platform.

"What else have you found out about the body?" asked Hotch, getting right down to business.

"Despite the obvious missing ear and the burnt body found in the lake, I found what appears to be a gunshot wound to the chest−the victim had fractures in ribs L5 and L6," started Brennan.

"Dr. Brennan and I couldn't find any other injuries in the bones," said Zack.

"That seems conclusive with the torn pericardium tissue outside the lung," nodded Cam. "I also found water and hemopneumothorax, which is−"

"−a mixture of blood and air in the lungs," finished Reid. "He was most likely still breathing when he was burned."

"So, we have what?" Morgan asked. "A body of a Dutchman, or a descendant of one, aged 37, with his ear missing and a gunshot to his chest, who was then burned alive and then dumped in the lake, where he drowned?"

"Wow. I bet not even van Gogh had this much bad luck in his lifetime," muttered Garcia. Angela and the others nodded in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

To 1Sherlockian: I miss Zack and Sweets, too! Also, I just watched Season 10's "Nelson's Sparrow" from Criminal Minds and although the beginning was predictable, it made me sad. Thanks for reviewing, though. You too, Decembra1998.

If you haven't figured it out yet, this story is set in an AU where Zack didn't help Gormogon, but everything else stayed pretty much the same.

Everyone, please read and review. No flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS).

* * *

Brennan, Booth, Angela, and the BAU moved into Angela's office, where Garcia, along with the rest of the BAU, stared at the Angelatron in awe.

"Why do I feel like you guys here at the Jeffersonian got the flat-screen TV, and I inherited the 1950s version without color?" Garcia muttered enviously. The rest of the BAU smiled at her special brand of humor.

"Ready, Angela?" asked Brennan. She turned to the BAU, explaining that Angela had done a facial reconstruction of the victim, and was about to run through possibilities through the facial recognition software program.

The computer stopped at a face, indicating that they had a hit. "Kyle Behr," read Booth. "What do we know about him?"

"He was 37 years old, apparently an artist dabbling in expressionism," said Angela, glancing at online pictures of his paintings. "He left behind a brother and a sister-in-law. Medical records say he was healthy−no mental disorders, physical ailments, nothing. His financial records showed that he was poor, and that he had no debts or loans."

"So if he was healthy, and didn't seem to have any burdens, then he probably didn't have a reason to kill himself," concluded Prentiss.

"Behr's life matches almost exactly with van Gogh's life story, except for the burning and drowning," realized Reid.

"Garcia," ordered Hotch. "Find out if there have been any similar deaths going back to the last ten years near the area around the lake. The M.O. is specific to the unsub, and the single gunshot was fatal. The unsub has some experience with killing, at the very least, with a gun."

"I may be able to help narrow the search area," said Hodgins, who had arrived in the office just in time to hear the BAU leader's last words. "Although the algae was common green algae usually found on the lake, chemical analysis of the fibers of the victim's clothing tells me that gasoline was used as the accelerant."

"So, basically a gun owner that owns a car? That sure narrows it down," said Rossi sarcastically.

Hodgins shrugged, as if to say, _What, did you expect me to get anything else out of so little evidence from one body?_

Hotch said, "Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi, we'll go to the crime scene and see how the police are doing. Agent Booth, you and Dr. Sweets are welcome to join us. Reid and J.J., stay here in the Jeffersonian, in case Garcia comes up with anything."

"Can Bones come with us?" asked Booth, knowing she hated being left out of field work and that she would take it out on him.

"Who is 'Bones'? And why?" questioned Hotch.

"Sorry…I meant Dr. Brennan," explained Booth. "Even if she doesn't have a gun, she can take care of herself, and she could notice something CSI missed."

Hotch nodded in consent, a little wary, but trusting the judgment of the FBI agent.

"Hit me back with that list, Baby Girl," Morgan flirted, as he slipped out with the others to follow orders.

* * *

Still in the Jeffersonian

"Baby Girl?" asked Angela, raising an eyebrow.

Reid, sensing that this could turn into a conversation he did not want to be a part of, blurted, "I'll see if Dr. Addy needs help with the body," and slipped away, leaving the three girls to talk. Hodgins had had the sense to slip out beforehand, therefore missing the beginning of the conversation.

"Yeah…when we first met as coworkers, Morgan didn't know my name, so he said, 'Baby girl,' which caught my attention," Garcia explained, as they waited for the results to pop up on her laptop.

"So, you work here with Dr. Temperance Brennan? What's that like?" wondered J.J.

"Even if this wasn't the job I expected to be doing when I graduated with a degree in Visual Arts and a minor in Computer Science, working here has its perks. I met my husband here−Dr. Hodgins−and we have a son named Michael Vincent. Brennan is really good at what she does, even if she may not be the most social person or knowledgeable about pop culture. But she's gotten better at it after she married Booth and had Christine," said Angela, smiling at the mention of the children. "Do you have any children, Agent Jareau?" She asked, turning to the other person in the room.

"Call me J.J. And yeah," said J.J. "His name's Henry, and I love him and his father very much."

"What did Agent Booth mean, when he said that Dr. Brennan could take care of herself without a gun?" asked Garcia, her curiosity peaked.

Angela smirked. "She's trained in three types of martial arts, and right now, she's taking karate lessons. Not to mention, she knows about all of the weak points in a person's body, so a well-laced kick or punch could dislocate something in her attacker's anatomy."

"So she's that powerful, huh? Just like Wonder Woman," said Garcia.

Angela laughed, remembering Brennan's costume from Halloween. "Oh, you have no idea. So what's profiling and working in the BAU like?"

"We get a really cool jet that takes us to our cases," offered J.J. "Whenever there's an urgent case, we have to be ready to fly at a drop of a hat."

"I'm still jealous that you get nicer tech than we do," joked Garcia.

"Do you want to try it out while you're waiting to get a hit?" asked Angela. Soon she was engulfed in Garcia's arms, laughing as she let go to receive the tablet. J.J. watched with a smile, glad that she and Garcia had made a new friend from another part of the FBI.

As he re-examined pieces of bone to make sure he and Dr. Brennan hadn't missed anything, Zack talked to Reid excitedly about physics and geometry.

As Hodgins passed by, he glanced between the two of them, only understanding the bare details, but figuring out that they were talking about the bullet's trajectory to fracture those ribs and hit the heart and that angle. Knowing that Zack had been a little lonely since he and Angela got married, he smiled, glad that he met someone who he could relate to.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for your review, Decembra1998!

Please read and review! No flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS).

* * *

At the crime scene

Hotch greeted the policeman in charge of the scene. "Officer Smith, have you found anything new?"

The officer shook his head. "We're still having boats out, in case there are any more bodies at the bottom of the lake."

Hotch surveyed the scene, and gave his orders. "Prentiss, you and Dr. Brennan walk around the lake, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. Morgan, you and Agent Booth will join one of the boats to check and make sure there are no bodies in the lake. Dave, Dr. Sweets, and I will talk to the other officers and CSI's, and see if they noticed anything. Is that fine with you, Agent Booth?" He added that last part so he wouldn't make Booth feel like he was undermining his authority.

Booth opened his mouth to argue, but he glanced at Dr. Brennan, who seemed fine with it. He closed his mouth and shrugged. "Sure."

The group of seven split up.

* * *

Prentiss and Brennan walked along the circuit of the lake. It was an awkward sort of silence, which was broken when Prentiss asked Brennan, "So, you write books? What else do you do?"

Brennan answered, "My work takes up most of my time, as well as Christine, my daughter, but when I have the chance, I like to look up at the stars."

"Really?" Prentiss said, surprised they had something in common. "Me, too! We had a case once, where the killer carved constellations into the victim's abdomens."

Brennan was interested. "Our team at the Jeffersonian had a case where the victim had an interest in constellations…Wait a minute! It was nighttime when the body was discovered."

"So?" asked Prentiss, momentarily lost. Then she got it, too. "Oh! We better tell Hotch about this, after we finish this search."

"What is that?" asked Brennan, her sharp eye catching some movement. She approached the area, followed by Prentiss.

* * *

Morgan and Booth were cruising along in a boat with a CSI.

Morgan turned to Booth. "Bones?" he asked, implying that he was curious about an explanation.

Booth replied in the same way. "Baby Girl?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Touché," said Morgan, he and Booth smiling at each other. "'Baby girl' was what I called Garcia when I called her by the wrong name and she didn't reply."

"I called Dr. Brennan 'Bones" as a nickname to annoy her a long time ago, because of what she does for a living, but it stuck ever since," explained Booth. "So you guys use your shrinky stuff to catch the bad guys?"

"What? You don't believe in it?" asked Morgan, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no," said Booth, raising his hands in defense against the accusation. "That's Bones. I've seen Sweets do it enough times that I can't not believe it."

They continued on in amicable silence.

* * *

Sweets, Hotch, and Rossi had split up to talk to the eight or nine CSI's and officers still on the scene. They came back to the meeting place they had agreed on, and shared their results.

Hotch said, "Officer Smith and his partners didn't find anyone on the scene, although they are still canvassing the area. This unsub must have left the scene after dumping the body. He didn't stick around. Was he afraid of being caught, or did his rage for the victim disappear after the body sank below the surface?"

Rossi said, "I think it's a combination of both, but I'm leaning more towards option number two. The amount of overkill on that victim suggests enough rage to overcome the fear."

Sweets nodded. "I agree. Also, the CSI's said that the body was in the water for 3-4 hours, meaning that it was nighttime when the unsub dumped the body. This area generally isn't too populated, so the unsub wouldn't be too afraid of someone discovering him."

Both BAU members stared at him, realizing that he wasn't just a psychologist. "What?" said Sweets, smirking. "I _am _a profiler, you know."

Just then, a gunshot rang through the air.

* * *

30 minutes ago

Brennan went into the woods surrounding the lake. Her eyes had caught the movement of something that looked suspiciously like a person. She was followed by Prentiss, who was quiet as well, having caught on to the fact that something was wrong.

The figure stopped at a lean-to, not noticing the women following him. He bent down, as if he was going to dig something up.

"What'cha got there?" asked Prentiss, in an almost casual tone, her gun drawn.

The figure jumped, then ran into the woods. Brennan and Prentiss split up and followed him to a clearing, where he was nowhere to be found.

Brennan scanned the ground, the trees, and the air. She was so preoccupied that she didn't see Prentiss being tackled to the ground behind her. However, she did hear the muffled scream and a bone breaking, so she whirled around.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the brown-haired man standing over Prentiss, his hands on her throat. The agent's gun was out of her reach.

Brennan's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she rushed at him, kicking at his patella. However, she missed, and got him in the calf. The man cursed, whirling around on her. Brennan took a deep breath. _This is where all of your training becomes useful,_ she told herself. She and the man battled in hand-to-hand combat.

Even though she was pulling most of her best moves, the man got the best of her, and managed to force her to the ground. Brennan thought that this would be the end. She closed her eyes, wishing that she wouldn't have to leave Christine with Booth.

Just then, she heard a gunshot. The man jerked up, cursed, and ran away. Brennan opened her eyes and looked across the clearing, where Prentiss managed to get to her gun, although the lower part of her left arm was broken. Brennan rushed to Prentiss, worry and gratitude in her eyes.

* * *

Back to the present

Booth and Morgan managed to get the boat to go in the direction of the clearing. They jumped out, and joined by Sweets, Hotch, and Rossi, they reached the clearing, where they found Brennan kneeling next to Prentiss on the ground.

Brennan looked at Hotch, her gaze steady. "Call for a medic," she ordered. "It's too late to chase the shooter. He's gone." Hotch nodded, reaching for his radio.

Booth and Sweets rushed up to her. "Are you okay?" Booth asked her, frantically looking her over.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a few cuts and bruises, but Agent Prentiss here needs more help than I do," she replied. All eyes turned to Prentiss's broken arm.

"I may be able to help," Brennan told Prentiss. "But this might hurt a lot." Prentiss nodded, understanding the implication.

Brennan looked up, and explained to Rossi and Morgan. "I may have to reset her arm now. If I do not, it will be more difficult for the paramedics to do so when they arrive."

Rossi looked at Hotch and Morgan, and nodded in consent as well. "Do it."

Brennan braced herself. She had done this a few times, but it was still unsettling. Then, she pushed the bones into their proper places.

Prentiss hissed loudly in pain, but she felt a little better. Ignoring the pain, she listened to the murmurs of the others as they exchanged information.

She whispered a "Thank you" to Brennan just before the ambulance arrived. Luckily, the paramedics had been informed of the situation, and had the materials to make her a cast on-site.

As the paramedics told her what not to do with a broken arm, what medications she should take, et cetera, et cetera, Hotch's phone rang.

"Boss man, I've got three hits," said Garcia.

"We'll be right down," said Hotch. "She doesn't need to go to a hospital, right?" he asked the workers, motioning to Prentiss. They shook their heads.

"Okay. Prentiss, Rossi, and Dr. Sweets, come with me back to the Jeffersonian. Garcia has results. Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth, and Morgan, stay here and find clues as to the attacker's identity," said Hotch.

Everyone nodded, splitting up to follow his orders.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for your review, Decembra1998!

Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS).

* * *

Back at the Jeffersonian

Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and Sweets were standing in Angela's office, telling the others what had happened.

"Police didn't find anything significant that could be used as evidence, but CSI's found that the body was dumped in the night. Dr. Sweets, Agent Rossi, and I figured that when the unsub disposed of the body, his rage disappeared, and he stopped caring about it," shared Hotch.

"How do you know that he's a 'he'?" interjected Cam, not meaning to sound doubtful. She was genuinely curious.

"This kind of crime fits the profile of an organized serial killer, someone who makes an effort to cover up their crimes, by dumping the bodies of their victims in hidden locations and clearing up the crime scene. And about 80-90% of all serial killers are males," explained Reid.

"Morgan told me that he and Booth didn't find any other bodies in the lake," said Rossi. "So this may not be the unsub's usual dumping ground."

Prentiss took up the storytelling. "Dr. Brennan and I figured out why the unsub chose the lake as this victim's dumping ground. The night was dark and clear, and the lake was remote enough that someone could see the stars."

"_The Starry Night_, by Van Gogh," said Angela, as she realized the significance of what Prentiss had just said. Then she noticed Prentiss' cast, which she had been cradling with the other arm. "Oh my God! What happened?"

"Guys, I'm fine," Prentiss rolled her eyes as she consoled everyone, all of whom had worried expressions on their faces as they kept looking at her cast. However, she was touched that the members of the Jeffersonian showed concern for her as well. Then she thought of another idea to distract them. "Would you like to sign it?"

Angela's, Garcia's, and J.J's eager smiles told her the answer. Reid was relieved that she was fine, since she was joking around after the attack.

As they finished the story, Hotch turned to Garcia. "So what do you have for us, Garcia?"

"So I took the information and ran it through the FBI's numerous databases, and I had three hits. All three victims were killed in different areas of jurisdiction, so that's why the police didn't see a connection," replied Garcia.

"Angela's machine, which is a gift from God, by the way, helped me narrow it down. The first victim was a Frenchman named Adrian Beauvais. He was an artist who specialized in Impressionism. He was found in another lake, but he didn't drown. He had signs of smoke inhalation in his lungs. And guess what was on the lake's surface?" continued Garcia.

"_Water Lillies_, by Claude Monet" replied Reid.

"10 points to one of the boy geniuses!" beamed Garcia. She motioned to Angela to continue.

"Six months later, the next victim was Stephen Forseth, a Norwegian. He didn't have much luck in his life. Within the first 26 years of his life, his parents and his siblings died. He displayed his trauma through his paintings. He was found on a bridge, with his mouth open after he had been strangled," said Angela.

"_The Scream_, by Edvard Munch" said Zack, surprising those BAU agents who not yet heard his voice.

"And lastly, two months after the second victim, or one month before Kyle Behr, we had another Frenchman by the name of Anthony Thibault. He was 31-year-old post-Impressionist artist, found dead near a lake at a park with signs of having diphtheria," said Garcia.

"_A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte_, by Georges Seurat," said Hodgins when neither of the geniuses came up with anything. Everyone looked at him, surprised.

"When you live with an artist, you learn something about paintings," shrugged Hodgins, at Angela's satisfied smile.

"So he's killing victims that represent 19th century artists he hates, and then uses their work against them in their death sites," concluded J.J.

"I think we have enough for a preliminary profile," said Hotch.

"We're looking for an organized killer, most likely male, who hates 19th century artists for some reason," said Sweets.

"Organized serial killers are generally Caucasian males, 25-45 years old," started Rossi.

"They have above average intelligence, and strong social skills," continued Reid.

"They usually maintain a menial job that is below their abilities. Given how easily he broke my arm, he must be working as a construction worker or some other job that involves heavy lifting," contributed Prentiss.

"Even with all of this information, there's still a lot of people this profile can be applied to," said Hodgins.

"Hopefully Morgan and the others can find something," said Hotch.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the clearing at the crime scene

"I believe that before we went after the suspect, he stopped here," said Brennan, leading Booth and Morgan to where the suspect had buried something.

Booth and Morgan brought out the two shovels given to them by the police and the CSI's. Then, they proceeded to dig. While he was digging, Booth couldn't keep his eyes off of Brennan, since he was still worried. Brennan seemed fine, but was she really?

Booth was taken out of his thoughts when his shovel hit something. The two men grabbed at it, and lifted it up.

"That's…a chest," said Brennan in disbelief.

"Huh. Looks like we didn't have to go to the beach to find buried treasure," commented Booth.

Morgan bent down to the lock and took out a paperclip, which he proceeded to uncoil.

"What are you doing?" asked Brennan as Booth looked on curiously.

"You learn a few things in the Chicago P.D.," explained Morgan, fiddling with the lock. He heard a click, and lifted the lid up.

"Whoa. Are those…?" asked Booth as they all stared at the contents of the chest.

"Yeah. These are the killer's trophies," stated Morgan grimly. "I'm going to call Hotch," he said as he turned away from the sight to make a phone call.

"What kind of pirates would want these?" Booth asked in disbelief.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for your review, Decembra1998!

Read and review, but no flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds _(belonging to CBS).

* * *

At the Jeffersonian

The two teams were gathered along the platform table as Brennan removed the contents of the chest, which were an ear, a finger, a toe, and a tooth, all fairly decomposed.

Morgan glanced at the appendages, and explained to the Jeffersonian team. "The killer took trophies of his victims. My guess is, you'll match that ear to Behr, and the other parts to the other victims."

Brennan raised an eyebrow, disliking assumption without a proper scientific basis. "Zack and I will study these body parts and confirm your theory, but we will need something to compare them to."

Cam sighed. "I'll have the other bodies delivered to the Jeffersonian," she said, heading back to her office, and already dreading the paperwork she would have to do to get the proper authorization.

"I think you missed something, Bones," said Booth, as he looked inside the chest. Cam joined him, and using her gloves, removed a dirty patch of clothing.

"I'll take that," said Hodgins, and he went to his lab to study the sample in more detail.

Sweets, Booth, Angela, and the BAU members looked at each other. There was nothing they could do until the Jeffersonian had the bodies delivered and the "squints," as Booth called them, finished their analyses.

Booth decided to take charge. "All right. Is anyone hungry? How do you guys feel about Chinese?"

Reid opened his mouth to say no, but he decided that he did feel hungry, despite looking at a corpse all day. Everyone else shrugged, muttering "Sure," and "I could eat," and turned to Reid for his opinion.

He smiled. "As long as I don't have to use chopsticks."

Everyone in the BAU laughed, while Booth, Sweets, and Angela gave them weird looks.

"O…..kay?" Then Booth turned to the platform. "Bones! We're going to Wong Foo's, and we'll bring something back for you guys!"

Bones replied with a distracted "That's fine, Booth!" as she concentrated on her bones.

As Booth turned to go, followed by Sweets and Angela, J.J. stopped him. "Aren't we going to ask what they want?"

"We don't have to," replied Booth. The BAU gave him quizzical looks. "You'll see."

* * *

At Wong Foo's

The ten members of the joint team sat in one of the larger booths. Booth was next to Hotch, who was next to Rossi, then Prentiss, J.J., Angela, Garcia, Morgan, Reid, Sweets, and back to Booth. Sid, the owner of the restaurant, came up to them, recognizing one of his regular customers.

"Booth," he smiled. "What can I get for you guys?" he asked, his hand inching toward his apron's pocket to perform the irregular motion of bringing out the menus.

Booth stopped the others from answering. "Surprise us," he said, smirking at the BAU's incredulous looks. "Don't worry…it'll be fine."

Sid nodded. Before he turned to leave, he warned Booth, "Don't discuss your work in here again, alright?"

Booth smiled as he nodded along with Angela, remembering the last time he had brought Bones and the rest of the squints to the restaurant. "No worries, Sid. By the way, we need some to-go for Bones and the rest of the squints."

After Sid left, Rossi turned to Reid. "So how was your job-shadowing experience?"

Reid smiled. "It was quite fascinating to see Dr. Brennan and Dr. Addy use anatomy and osteology. We've always worked with corpses with flesh…so it was interesting. Like her books, she is very detail-oriented."

"Speaking about her books…"said Garcia mischievously. "Are you Agent Andy, Agent Booth?"

"Bones denies it, but…" he dramatically leaned closer to the center of the table, the others unconsciously mimicking his actions, "…yes."

Everyone leaned back, laughing at lightness of the atmosphere before breaking into little conversations as they waited for their food to be served.

"So you are a psychologist, Dr. Sweets?" asked Reid, with Hotch, Rossi, and Booth listening in.

"Yes. I have an undergraduate degree in psychology, a master's in abnormal psychology, and a doctorate in clinical psychology and behavioral analysis," replied Sweets.

"And do you enjoy working for the FBI here at the Jeffersonian?"

"I do."

Booth explained, "He's like a human lie detector, and he helps me get confessions out of our suspects in the interrogation room.

"What about you? Do you enjoy your work?" asked Dr. Sweets, directing his question at all three BAU males engrossed in the conversation.

"Yes," said Reid, copying Sweets' movements a few minutes ago. "I have an eidetic memory, and I do my best in statistics, linguistics, and geo-profiling."

At Booth's questioning look, Sweets said, "Linguistics is handwriting analysis and geo-profiling is determining crime scenes or the criminal's whereabouts based on his actions during his crimes."

Hotch exchanged a look with Rossi. Dr. Sweets would have made a fine addition to the BAU.

Turning back to Reid, Sweets asked, "What do you like to do in your spare time?"

Reid answered, "I read and play cards. I used to play chess with a former mentor," he smiled sadly, along with Rossi and Hotch.

"Really? I play chess, too! I loved it in my childhood years, and I went undercover as a chess player for a case once. We should play against each other sometime," said Sweets, excited at meeting someone who enjoyed chess as much as he did.

Prentiss, J.J., Garcia, Morgan, and Angela were having their own conversation at the other half of the table.

Angela was elaborating on her job at the Jeffersonian. "I'm a forensic artist," she explained. "I do facial reconstructions, but I also do some forensic accounting and use measurements to do things like determine the height of an attacker or what type of weapon was used, or what scenario would have caused specific injuries."

"But isn't it hard to see all of those decomposed bodies?" asked Garcia, sympathy in her voice, since she knew what it was like.

"Not to Dr. Brennan," laughed Angela, looking at Morgan. "You saw how tough she is out on the field and in the lab."

Morgan nodded. He remembered Prentiss mentioning how the forensic anthropologist fought the attacker off. "How's the arm, by the way?" he asked her.

"It's still fine," said Prentiss as she rolled her eyes. However, she appreciated the concern.

J.J. stared at Angela, not fooled by the change in subject. "But what about _you_? Isn't it hard for you?"

Angela sighed. "Dr. Goodman, our boss before Cam, once told me, 'You discern humanity in the wreck of a ruined human body. You give victims back their faces. Their identities. You remind us all of why we're here in the first place…because we treasure human life,'" she said. "When he put it that way, how can I argue?"

That half of the table sat in thought for a while. Morgan smiled. "This Dr. Goodman sounds like a wise man."

"If reminding yourself of that doesn't take away your negative thoughts, I could share some cute animal pictures with you," offered Garcia. Her comment helped lighten the mood, and everyone laughed again.

As their food arrived, the BAU members were surprised. Sid had gotten them exactly what they had wanted, and left some takeout containers for the Jeffersonian team. They sneaked curious looks at his back as he retreated into the kitchen.

Booth shrugged. "Sid's good at what he does."

"Maybe he has some profiling skills of his own," suggested Sweets.

Everyone pondered this theory as they dug in.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for your review, Decembra1998!

Read and review! No flames, please.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds_ (belonging to CBS).

* * *

Back at the Jeffersonian, on the platform

The dinner party went back to the lab after finishing their meal. They were greeted by the four scientists standing next to not one, but four corpses on the platform.

"What's up, Bones?" asked Booth, his, Angela's, and Garcia's good moods fading away at the sight of the corpses.

Brennan looked at the other scientists, who nodded, letting her go first.

"I have discovered that the ear matches that of Kyle Behr. The finger matches that of Adrian Beauvais. The toe is Stephen Forseth's, and the tooth is Anthony Thibault's, so Agent Morgan's assumption was right." This admission brought down her own mood down, and she let Zack take over.

"I discovered that these parts were severed with the same instrument, a blunt knife," said Zack. "I also discovered something, and I consulted with Dr. Saroyan, who confirmed my theory."

Cam took a deep breath. There was no way that she could say this subtly. "These appendages were cut off and/or removed while the victim was alive. I found leftover blood in the ear, finger, and toe. Zack was able to discover part of Thibault's gum tissue in the tooth, which leads me to believe it was crudely extracted."

"Wait a second," said Sweets. "So you're saying that there's a killer out there who takes trophies from people who he plans to kill?"

The scientists' morbid silence answered his question.

Hotch took the lead. "Garcia, Ms. Montenegro, and J.J. Look for anyone in this area of Virginia who might have a grudge against artists and fits the profile we gave earlier, and any potential victims who had some part of their body taken from them."

Hodgins interrupted. "Excuse me, G-Man? I can probably help her narrow the search area down. Remember the patch of clothing I found? I think the killer must have caught his shirt in the lid of the chest, and it was ripped off. On it, I found the same composition of soil from where the killer buried this chest."

"There's more. I also found traces of acidic pamunkey soil, which was brought to western and central Virginia through the James River, so the killer may be scouting out another location for his next kill."

"Okay. So western and central Virginia, with a focus on area around James River. Got it," said Garcia, going into Angela's office with Angela and J.J.

"Agent Booth and Dr. Sweets, you may join the rest of us as we determine more about the profile," continued Hotch as he and the BAU went to Cam's office, where the BAU had set up.

Cam turned to Hodgins, Brennan, and Zack. "I guess we'll just continue to examine these bodies, and see if we turn up anything new."

* * *

In Cam's office

"Let's do a quick recap," started Rossi.

"Since this crime is organized, the unsub is most likely a 25-45 year old Caucasian male," said Morgan.

"Dr. Brennan and I both caught a glimpse of our attacker, and he was strong, probably because his job required strength," continued Prentiss.

"He has above average intelligence and good social skills," said Sweets.

"He is experienced with a gun and a knife, as well as hand to hand combat," said Hotch.

"He must have a grudge against artists," said Reid. "But why?"

"This rage the unsub displayed stems from hatred. He may have been abused by an artist, especially one he was close to, like a family member or friend. Or he may have just hated art class," joked Rossi.

"But that doesn't explain the severing of body parts while the victims are alive," said Reid. "And from what Dr. Brennan and Prentiss told us, the unsub seemed to have all of his intact."

"Wait. The experience with the gun and the knife, as well as hand-to-hand combat could come from military training," said Morgan. "And in war, soldiers can lose their limbs." Then he turned to Prentiss. "Do you think your attacker had prosthetics?"

"It's…possible," admitted Prentiss. "I was a little busy, though, so I might not have noticed" she continued, waving her arm.

"And when soldiers lose their limbs, they can have phantom limb syndrome," said Booth, finishing Morgan's train of thought. "You think he's trying to make someone he hates feel his pain, literally."

Hotch nodded, agreeing with the team's thoughts. "Let's tell Garcia and Ms. Montenegro. This will help them narrow down the search."

Soon, everyone besides Cam, Zack, and Hodgins were in Angela's office. Booth was glad no one was claustrophobic.

"So we ran down the list, and we came up with 20 names," said Garcia, awaiting perimeters which would help narrow the list down.

"Single out any names associated with the military, Baby Girl," said Morgan.

"Okay, 10 names, now what?"

"Find any cases where an artist was involved in the man's life," instructed Hotch.

"I see two names. Marcus Zane and Chris Thomas," said Garcia.

"Okay," said Hotch. "Prentiss, Morgan, Dr. Sweets, and I will take Chris Thomas and Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, Reid, and Dave will take Marcus Zane. Garcia, send us the addresses."

Everyone agreed to the plan, and split up, leaving Garcia, Angela, and J.J. in Angela's office and Cam, Zack, and Hodgins on the platform.

* * *

At Chris Thomas' house

Morgan knocked on the door. "FBI!" When there was no reply, he kicked it down.

He went upstairs, while Dr. Sweets and Prentiss took the ground floor and Hotch took the basement.

After a thorough search, it was clear that Chris Thomas was not in. Easels and paintbrushes were everywhere, making it clear that an artist was living here. However, there wasn't anything incriminating, besides the naked women depicted in interesting positions. Sweets found them a little creepy, and looked everywhere else. Prentiss sighed and shook her head. "I don't think Chris Thomas is our man."

* * *

At Marcus Zane's house

Booth unknowingly copied Morgan, calling out "FBI!" and kicking the door down when no one answered.

He and Brennan took the basement, Reid took the second floor, and Rossi took the ground floor.

Reid met Rossi on the ground floor after they had cleared their levels. It took them a few seconds to register that they didn't hear a third "Clear!"

The two BAU agents ran down the steps, where they found husband and wife slumped together, unconscious on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for your review, Decembra1998!

Read and review! No flames, please.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds_ (belonging to CBS).

* * *

At the hospital

Although he couldn't see it, Booth's chest felt like it was collapsing in on him. His throat was on fire, and he couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, something was placed over his nose and mouth. Booth panicked at the thought of someone trying to suffocate him when he already had trouble breathing, and he thrashed, his legs kicking defensively against his attacker. Just then, he hear a familiar voice saying "Booth, breathe!"

He obeyed, his heart rate slowing down as he took in some clean air. As he took in oxygen, he gradually opened his eyes…and closed them again. The bright lights would take some getting used to.

He tried again, and as his vision cleared, he saw Sweets standing by his bed.

_Wait a minute. What is Sweets doing in my bedroom?_

He looked around and saw he was in a white room. Then, he heard a constant beep, which he realized was a heart monitor. _On second thought, what am I doing in a hospital?_

As his mind cleared from its previous foggy state, memories of last night rushed up to meet him. He bolt upright in his bed. "Bones!"

Dr. Sweets pushed Booth back down. "Booth! Easy. Dr. Brennan's fine. I just sent her home to get some rest, after she made me promise to tell her when you woke up. Now, what do you remember about last night?"

"Bones and I were going down to Marcus Zane's basement, and I heard something. When I turned to see what made the noise…," Booth trailed off, unsure of what happened next.

"You were tear-gassed," supplied Sweets. "Wait…what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm going to catch this killer!" said Booth as he removed the wires and scooted to the side of the bed to get out. He realized his mistake when he put his feet on the ground and attempted to stand up. His head spun, and his balance was so off that he fell back onto the bed.

"No, you are not," Sweets stated firmly. Booth shot him a glare, which would have made anyone flinch. However, after years of being his partner, Sweets was immune to it. Also, the effect of the glare was ruined when Booth broke into a coughing fit.

Sweets continued. "You are still expelling effects of the tear gas, and after that, you have to recover. You will stay here, and I will update you on the case."

Booth muttered angrily under his breath as he moved himself into a comfortable position on the hospital bed.

"Cheer up, Booth," said Sweets. "You'll get a nice surprise soon, anyway."

Booth dimly registered the words as the dizziness caught up to him and darkness entered his vision.

* * *

At the Jeffersonian

Sweets made his way to the platform, where everyone was waiting for news on Booth's condition. Eleven faces turned to him, with expressions of concern. "He's fine. Of course, he insisted that he would be updated on the case, but he agreed to stay at the hospital."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Angela said, "I'll go tell Brennan."

Sweets said, "No need. She and Christine are on their way over to him." He grinned, picturing Booth's face when he saw his wife and daughter.

"So now I'm head forensic anthropologist?" asked Zack, a little scared, yet excited.

"Yup," nodded Cam. Zack looked a little freaked out now, and Reid looked at him with a reassuring glance. He had seen Zack work alongside Dr. Brennan, and he knew that he would be okay.

"I'm still king of the lab, though," said Hodgins, trying to put Zack at ease. It worked, and Zack smiled at him gratefully.

"I had Officer Smith put an APB out for Marcus Zane," Hotch informed the others, trying to get back at the issue at hand.

Rossi asked, "Garcia. What did you and Ms. Montenegro find out about him?"

"His parents, David and May Zane, died when he was nine. He was adopted by his uncle, Albert Zane. He was an artist, by the way," said Garcia.

Angela picked up where Garcia left off. "There were reports of domestic abuse around that time, and apparently the uncle lied about it whenever child services came around. Marcus must have resented him all this time, and joined the military to get away from him."

Garcia continued the breakdown of the unsub's life. "While out in Afghanistan, his squadron was ambushed, and he was one of the survivors. He was tortured in many ways, one of them including waterboarding. He was rescued, and in the hospital, they had to amputate his arm, and give him a prosthetic. When he came back, he found out his uncle had died of alcoholism."

Morgan asked, "When did that happen, Baby Girl?"

Seeing where this question was going, Garcia said, "A month before the death of Adrian Beauvais."

"The stressor," said J.J. "His pent-up rage must have had nowhere to go after his uncle died, so he had to use the victims as substitutes."

"What happened to trigger the killings," supplied Prentiss, deciding to save Sweets the trouble of explaining to the scientists and Angela what a stressor was. Sweets nodded at her gratefully.

"So now what do we do about Marcus Zane?" asked Reid.

"We wait," said Rossi.

* * *

At the hospital

As Booth came back to consciousness, he heard a few whispers and some mumbles from the side of his bed. He opened his eyes to a welcome sight.

"Bones! Christine!" he said, smiling at his family.

"Daddy!" cheered Christine, as she jumped on the bed to hug him.

"Christine!" Brennan admonished Christine for not using her inside voice and for jumping on a bed.

"It's fine, Bones," said Booth, smiling as he gave his little girl a hug. "How are you doing, Christine?"

"Great!" she chirped. "My bunny and I had a tea party," she smiled as she lifted her arm to show her daddy what she was holding.

Brennan's smile was full of relief. Last night, she had been so worried when she heard Booth had to stay longer in the hospital.

Booth looked over at her, then looked at Christine. "Christine, why don't you sit over there and talk to your bunny. I think he wants to tell you something."

"Okay, daddy!" she went along with it, not realizing Booth's true intentions.

"Bones," he said, turning to his wife. "Are you okay?"

Brennan's face forming a slightly angry expression. "Yes, I'm fine. But you're not! Why did you have to go in front of me and take the brunt of the gas?!"

Booth saw the fear and concern behind the anger, and jokingly said, "What? So if Zane had a gun, you would rather be in front of me without a gun?"

Brennan glared at him halfheartedly. "It's not the same thing," she muttered.

"Come here, Bones," sighed Booth as he engulfed her in his arms. Then he saw Christine looking at them with a wistful expression on her face. "Come on, Christine," he said, opening his arms for her.

She needed no invitation, and joined the group hug.

A passing nurse walked by the window, smiling as she saw the cute family scene.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for your review, Decembra1998!

Read and review, but no flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones_ (belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds_ (belonging to CBS).

* * *

To pass the time, Reid decided to take Sweets up on his offer to play a game of chess.

The two teams were still in Angela's room, most of them with coffee. Sweets sat on one side, Reid on the other. Zack was between them, curious to see how this would end.

As it turned out, neither player could checkmate the other. Their game had lasted longer than they each thought it would, and Sweets' hand was hovering on his rook when the Angelatron beeped out a signal. Angela and Garcia had set an alarm to tell them when the suspect was sighted.

Both chess prodigies eyed each other. Mutually, they agreed to a draw. For now.

Angela got up and sat behind her computer, with Garcia standing behind her.

"Yeah. We've definitely got a hit on Marcus Zane. He was using an ATM, and police saw his face and matched him to the APB. He thinks he's been detained there for questioning about a robbery nearby," reported Angela.

"Garcia, send us the address. Morgan and I will talk to him," said Hotch, ready to see the man who had avoided the police for several months finally get what was coming to him.

"Be safe, my chocolate god of thunder," Garcia said worriedly. Marcus Zane had incapacitated Prentiss, Dr. Brennan, and Agent Booth. The FBI did not need more of its agents and consultants taken out.

"Always, baby girl," smiled Morgan, trying to reassure her that everything would be fine. He gave her a side hug, and left with Hotch.

* * *

Morgan and Hotch arrived on the scene. An Officer Jones was talking to Marcus Zane. As Morgan walked up to Zane, he shouted, "Marcus Zane, FBI! We need to talk to you about a murder!"

As soon as the suspect heard that, he fled. Morgan cursed under his breath, and sprinted after him, with Hotch on his trail.

The suspect showed off his athletic prowess as he leaped over car hoods, ducked under lampposts, and wove into the crowd.

Morgan shook his head as he continued running. Oh no. This guy was not getting away after all that he had done. He put on a burst of speed, and would have caught him, but…

Something hit his bulletproof vest. He looked down to see a dart sticking out of his chest. Or was there more than one dart? His vision was getting blurry. He looked up to see Marcus Zane, with a blowpipe to his lips. He stumbled, and crashed onto the floor.

Hotch rounded the corner, taking note of the situation, and realizing what had just happened. Although he was worried for Morgan, the suspect was going to get away. After making sure Morgan was breathing, he called, "Marcus Zane, stop or I'll shoot!"

Marcus turned, intending to continue running. Hotch lifted his gun, and shot. It hit Marcus Zane in the leg. At first, he thought he had hit a prosthetic, since the suspect didn't react, but he saw the growing patch of purple on the suspect's jeans.

Marcus fell to the ground, cursing. His pants had ridden up at the ankles, and Hotch saw that he had hit the human leg, ensuring that Marcus wouldn't be able to keep running.

After Hotch checked on Morgan, who was just unconscious, and radioed for two ambulances, he came over and slipped the handcuffs over Marcus' wrists. "Marcus Zane, you are under arrest for the murders of Kyle Behr, Adrian Beauvais, Stephen Forseth, and Anthony Thibault, and the assaults on FBI Agents Emily Prentiss and Seeley Booth, as well as FBI Consultant Dr. Temperance Brennan…"

The ambulances had arrived as he finished telling Zane his Miranda rights, and he climbed into the one with Zane to make sure he didn't try anything.

Hotch sighed as he pulled out his phone. Garcia was _not_ going to be happy.

* * *

"Hotch?" frowned J.J. "What's wrong?"

Everyone in the room looked up at her tone, worried. If Zane had killed those four victims and assaulted Prentiss, Brennan, and Booth, they shivered to think what he could have done with Hotch or Morgan.

"Got it," J.J. nodded grimly. She hung up, and turned to face the rest of the team. "While they were pursuing the suspect, the suspect hit Morgan with a poisoned blow dart, which was long enough to get through his vest. He's at the hospital, and he's going to be fine. Apparently, it was only laced with a sedative."

"What about Hotch?" asked Prentiss, keeping an eye on Garcia. "Is he with Morgan?"

"No. They managed to get Marcus Zane, because Hotch shot him in his human leg, instead of his prosthetic one," answered J.J. "After Zane got his bullet wound wrapped up, Hotch took him to the Hoover building."

Rossi took charge. "Garcia, go to the hospital and stay with Morgan. Dr. Sweets, Reid, and I will interrogate him. Hotch shouldn't be the one to do it, since the suspect might not say anything in front of his shooter, now that he knows he's FBI."

The three nodded, and they walked out the door, leaving the rest to try their best to resume their activities before the phone call.

* * *

Garcia was sitting on the bedside chair in the hospital room, looking over at Morgan, who looked like he was asleep. She was angry that he had broken his promise to be safe, but now she was more worried and upset as she waited for him to wake up.

As if he could sense her mood change, he shifted and stirred, blinking groggily before his eyes focused on Garcia. "W-What happened?"

Garica stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You were about to catch the bad guy, but you got hit by a dart laced with sedatives. Hotch came in, shot Zane in the leg, and saved the day. Then he called an ambulance to get you to the hospital."

Morgan nodded, accepting the explanation. "Where's Zane now?"

"At the moment, about to be interrogated by Reid, Rossi, and Dr. Sweets," replied Garcia in an even tone.

Morgan heard the underlying emotion in those words, and sighed. "I'm sorry for breaking my promise, baby girl."

"You better be," grumbled Garcia, but she accepted the apology anyway. Her frown was now replaced with a small smile of relief.

"So there's no way you are letting me out of this place until I recover, right?" asked Morgan.

Garcia gave a firm nod, her small smile growing into a full blown grin.

"So what are we doing?" Morgan asked, giving up on arguing and curious about what she had planned.

She held up the James Bond movies. "We are going to watch some of these, until you, my fine furry friend, have them so memorized, you will know his moves and get out of future sticky situations."

Morgan grinned. This idea was pure Garcia.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for your review, Decembra1998!

Read and review, but no flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones _(belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds_ (belonging to CBS).

* * *

At the Hoover building

Reid eyed the suspect through the one way mirror. Although he was angry at Marcus Zane for injuring Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, and Morgan, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved that Zane had been frisked for any possible weapons. The criminal was still spewing curses, seemingly not weakened by the fact that he had been shot. He seemed to be on the verge of breaking his handcuffs.

Rossi stood next to him. He nodded, as if Reid had spoken to him. "I feel that way, too. I'm sure Dr. Sweets does as well."

Sweets nodded in confirmation. "But we can't focus on that. We have to put this guy behind bars, and we have to overcome that fear in order to help our friends and coworkers."

Rossi smirked. "Spoken like a true psychologist."

"Spoken like a profiler," Sweets shot back, his face plastered with an innocent smile.

Rossi gave him a smile that showed respect. "Touché."

With that little exchange to lighten the mood, the three profilers made their way to the interrogation room.

Rossi and Sweets sat across from Zane, as Reid stood behind them. Zane eyed all three of them with disgust.

Rossi caught that expression. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Zane?"

"Yeah," he straightened up in his seat and leaned over to the senior profiler. "You G-Men are all the same. Self-preserving bureaucrats." He spat out "bureaucrats" like it was a bad word.

"So you dislike the government?" asked Rossi, even though he knew the answer. Zane didn't deem this with a response, instead continuing to glare at all of them.

"Is it because the government sent you to war?" Sweets interjected.

Zane focused his scrutiny on him. "So, you G-Men can actually read. Yeah, they sent me to war. And look what they gave me in the hospital before sending me back." He lifted his pant leg to show off his prosthetic leg.

Reid spoke up. "Is that why you cut off parts of your victims to use as trophies?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Zane smugly.

"We found pieces of each victim in a chest buried in Kyle Behr's crime scene," said Reid.

"Do you have any evidence that I was anywhere near that crime scene?" asked Zane.

"Our forensic anthropologist and one of the agents of the BAU can attest to following you to the clearing where you buried the chest," said Sweets.

"Oh….you mean, one who I set a tear-gas mechanism for and one whose arm I broke," said Zane. "That was fun," he smiled sadistically.

"Are you admitting it?" asked Rossi.

"No," he said with a sneer. "I read it in the newspaper."

"Really? So you can read. Were you literate as a child?" asked Rossi.

"What are you getting at?" snarled Zane.

"I'm sure that you read your parents' obituaries," Rossi continued nonchalantly.

"Yes," said Zane, his temper rising. "So?"

"So you had to live with your uncle," said Sweets, noting the way Zane's fist clenched at the mention of his relative.

"So?" repeated Zane. "What does this have to do with the murders?"

"What's interesting is that there are reports of child services responding to 911 calls of domestic abuse, but they found nothing. Why is that?" asked Reid.

Zane spoke through clenched teeth. "My uncle…pretended that I was a juvenile delinquent who loved to make prank calls and do practical jokes. Then he offered them refreshments and sent them away…like nothing happened."

"And then what happened?" prodded Sweets, sensing that Zane needed no more encouragement to talk.

"He sent me away to join the military. I was glad to be away from that horrid house. But then…I got this," he motioned to his prosthetic leg, "and when I got back, and finally had the experience to kill someone and get away with it, I find out that my uncle is dead! But this doesn't prove that I killed all of those people!"

"Actually, it does," said Reid. "Your uncle's death was what triggered you to start killing, so you can release all of the rage you felt about your uncle. You killed people who looked like and worked as artists, because they reminded you of your uncle, who dabbled in 19th century styles of painting."

"And you felt that it was unfair that you had to have your leg amputated after all you had been through in your life, so you cut off parts of your victims," continued Rossi.

"And how you killed tells us that you were from the military," finished Sweets. "We found all of the evidence at your house. CSI's bagging it right now, and once it's analyzed, it will prove your guilt."

Zane cursed vehemently for several minutes. A few seconds after he had wasted all of his energy, Sweets turned to Reid. "Did you catch any of that?"

Reid was about to reply that he had an eidetic memory, so now he had more vocabulary to add to his memory bank, but he realized it was a joke. "Nope," he replied with a smile.

"Me either," said Rossi. He turned to Zane. "So can we take that as a confession?"

Zane spat in his direction. "You missed," said Rossi, indifferently. He forced Zane to get up, and shoved him in the direction of an officer. "Have fun in prison!" He said in a mock cheerful tone.

He turned to Sweets and Reid. "Let's go tell the others the good news."


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for reviewing, Decembra1998 and Guest!

Read and review, but no flames, please!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bones_ (belonging to Fox) or _Criminal Minds_ (belonging to CBS).

* * *

At the Jeffersonian

Morgan and Booth had been released from the hospital, and currently, they, along with the members of the Jeffersonian team and the BAU, were watching Sweets and Reid trying to finish their third chess match. Reid had won the first one, and Sweets the second. They were playing best two out of three. To the spectators, the two just appeared to be staring at the board. However, each player was predicting the other's moves and thinking of ways to counterattack.

Finally, Morgan broke in, saying, "If we stay here and watch you guys actually finish that match, we'll miss our flight."

Everyone watching sighed in relief. Even Brennan and Zack, who were actually following the game, looked bored.

Reid stood up, murmuring "Good game" to Sweets. He added, "I admired your interrogation tactics, as well."

Sweets blushed at this praise from a member of the BAU. "Nah…all of them came from Booth."

"Maybe so," said Reid, "but that profiling was all you."

Sweets smiled, thanking Reid before moving away. However, Hotch and Rossi stopped him.

"We were impressed by your profiling skills as well," said Hotch. "Rossi told me how expertly you interrogated Zane. There's always BAU positions open in the future."

"You should consider it," said Rossi.

Sweets barely concealed his grin, and nodded, making his exit before anyone else stopped him and embarrassed him further.

Cam and Hodgins came up to Hotch. "I'd like to thank you and your team for helping us out. We really appreciated it," said Cam.

Then she elbowed Hodgins. Hard.

"Ow! I mean, yeah! You and your G-Men sure helped us out on this one," he said, as he glared at Cam while rubbing the sore spot.

"It was our pleasure," replied Hotch, with an amused smile. "You've got a really great team of experts here, as well."

Back at the chessboard, Reid was thanking Brennan for letting him experience their work.

Then he smiled at Zack. "It was nice to meet you. Keep in touch?"

Zack nodded. He and Reid had exchanged numbers, so keeping in touch would be easy.

Prentiss approached Brennan, thanking her again for helping her out with her arm.

"You are welcome," responded Brennan. "We astrologists have to stick together, after all," she smiled at Prentiss, who smiled back.

Booth and Morgan nodded at each other, in a silent goodbye. They had watched a baseball game during their recovery periods in the hospital, and had bonded over it.

J.J., Garcia, and Angela were in a group hug.

Garcia wiped away a tear. She told Angela, "I'm going to miss you…and the Angelatron…but mostly you!"

J.J. laughed sadly along with Angela. "Yeah. I'll miss you too! We office women have to stick together."

Angela smiled, hugging her new friends. Brennan was her best friend, but they had never connected with each other like she, J.J., and Garcia had.

"You guys live like an hour away. I could come to Quantico, or you could come here again, and we can totally do a shopping trip!" exclaimed Angela.

"It's a date!" said Garcia, as they exchanged phone numbers.

"I'm sensing some girl-on-girl action here," said Morgan. "Anything I should be worried out?" he flirted with Garcia.

"Yeah. Angela here is one of the most awesome girls I know. But nothing can compare with my Chocolate God of Thunder," Garcia smiled at Morgan.

"Well, baby girl, I hate to break this phone number exchange up, but we've got to get going," said Morgan, motioning to the BAU members waiting by the doors.

"Oh, right!" said Garcia. She hugged Angela one last time, and she and J.J. joined their teammates. The members of the two teams waved at each other, and just like in their entrance, the seven of the BAU left together.

* * *

Thank you to all readers, viewers, followers, and people who made this story one of their favorites! A special thank you to Decembra1998 for reviewing so much!


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